


make the story last

by a_ufo_party



Category: Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party (Web Series)
Genre: Domestic ghosts who LOVE EACH OTHER, F/M, First "I love you", Fluff, HG is super soft and in love, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, and Lenore is insecure and doesnt realize how AWESOME she is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 11:58:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16786519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_ufo_party/pseuds/a_ufo_party
Summary: HG said it first.A soft, wavering whisper above her restful form from where he sat, reading in their bed.He must have thought she was asleep, and not listening to the crinkling of paper and the hushed “hm”s he made when deep into a book. But at some point, the reading had stopped, and Lenore had felt his eyes on her back.Then, he’d just...said it.“I love you.”(Post-canon Wellenore saying I love you to each other for the first time)





	make the story last

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a (kinda late) birthday present for GENE!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRIENDO!!! I LOVE YOU!
> 
> Takes place post-epilogue...

HG said it first.

A soft, wavering whisper above her restful form from where he sat, reading, in their bed.

He must have thought she was asleep, and not listening to the crinkling of paper and the hushed “hm”s he made when deep into a book. But at some point, the reading had stopped, and Lenore had felt his eyes on her back.

Then, he’d just...said it.

“I love you.”

She had imagined hearing that phrase, those three short, weighty word, in his voice a thousand times over. However, that had not prepared her for the sensation which accompanied the sound. Sparked by the quiet murmur of his painfully gentle voice, a sudden wave of something (Chills? Electricity? Life?) had rushed over her. Despite the actual volume of the words, they seemed deafening, resonating in her head and warming her body.

And yet...she did not say it back.

She wanted to.

Oh god, did she want to!

But her tongue was suddenly heavy as led and her lips seemed sewn shut.

Holding her breath, she waited until the young man had settled into bed and blown out the candle before allowing herself to shiver and relax into the pillow.

* * *

The next morning she had awoken to find her bedfellow gone and a cup of steaming tea on her dresser. 

Smiling softly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and braced herself for the cold floor of the bedroom. The curtains had been drawn, allowing crisp, dusty sunlight to stream across the neat little room (such a contrast from the rest of the house…)

After taking a sip of the tea (just enough sugar, bless that considerate little nerd) Lenore picked up the note which was folded neatly beside the saucer.

_ My dear Lenore, _

_ I awoke rather early this morning but thought it best to let you sleep given the hour. The most strange and possibly brilliant notion came to me in a dream and it seems my body would not allow me to rest another moment until it was on paper. I shall tell you all about it this afternoon, if you like. _

_ Yours, _

_ HG Wells _

He always signed his letters like that: yours.

Hers.

She liked it. There was something so dizzyingly romantic about belonging to another person, and vice versa. 

But as she read the letter, her stomach turned uncomfortably with the memory of the previous night. Why hadn’t she been able to respond in kind? Her heart was screaming out to do so, but her lips had not allowed her. At least HG did not know she was awake, and therefore would never know that his declaration went unrequited. 

Although it wasn’t unrequited.

She did love him.

She loved him so much her chest hurt thinking about him! 

He was thoughtful, and genuine, and creative, and excitable. He was the best listener in the world, and truly interested in her endeavors. When he kissed her, her mind spun and her heart leapt and the world felt right. When he held her in his (surprisingly strong) arms, she felt safe and content like she never wanted to leave. And when he spoke to her, to only her, softly in her ear, there was something truly magic in his voice. 

But why couldn’t she tell him all this?

* * *

“...and here are the yellow roses. I didn’t know if they would look nice, but Edgar says he likes them. Although, you know Edgar, he likes everything.” Annabel carried on as she gave Lenore a tour of the garden. For years, Edgar’s backyard had been nothing but dead plants, puddles of water, and grey, broken furniture. However, the moment Annabel mentioned the idea of a garden to him, he had suddenly become a fanatic of all things floral and outdoors.

“Yeah…” The distracted young woman nodded, mind still dwelling on the past evening’s events. “Wait, I mean, no? Edgar doesn’t like anything. Except maybe ravens. And sadness. And you.”

Annabel blushed, turning to the flowers. “He’s very sweet.”

Lenore rolled her eyes.

“Speaking of, how are things with you and HG?” The red head smiled, nodding in the direction of the garden table where a their tea was spread.

“Hm? Oh, you know. Hella great.” She replied with an air of false confidence.

“I’m glad. You deserve to have someone. Would you like a cake-”

“He told me he loves me last night.”

Instantly, Annabel paused, her eyes bugging. 

Before she could say anything, Lenore picked up a cake and took a bite. “But I didn’t say it back, so no biggie.”

Annabel’s eyebrows drew together in a distressed little line. “Oh...you didn’t?”

“Nope. He thought I was asleep though, so no harm done.”

“Well,” she said, as though the one word was a whole sentence.

Lenore felt a stab of dread. “You’ve got that look, babe. Please don’t tell me how I should’ve said it back-”

“Oh, no!” She interrupted, taking the other girl’s hand earnestly. “No, I just thought things were going well, that’s all. But no, if you don’t feel that way, you shouldn’t feel like you have to say it.”

“But that’s the thing,” Lenore shifted in her seat. “I...kinda do feel that way.”

“You love him?”

“...yup.” She said quickly.

Annabel beamed.

“I just wish I could have said it back.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“It’s not exactly easy. We can’t all have dramatic love confessions on our deathbeds like you and Edgar.” 

_ Deathbed _ .

The word hung in her mind for a moment longer than was natural. 

Smiling begrudgingly, Annabel shook her head. “Come on, Lenore. Please do be serious.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t say it. I’ve been asking myself that literally all morning.”

After she spoke, Annabel launched into a pretty paragraph about love and relationships, but Lenore found herself unable to pay much attention. 

As she sat, a sinking realization poured into her mind. She had not said I love you to anyone since Guy.

Before that, she had said it multiple times to multiple men. Hell, she’d said it, and meant it, nearly once a week! But Guy had been the last, and look what had happened to him.

Her stomach churned as she nodded and pretended to listen to her monologuing friend. Did she feel...guilty for finding love again? No, not really. She knew Guy would want her to be happy, to move on. Was she fearful that saying I love you was some kind of curse, and after uttering the words she would find HG had killed himself? No, that was foolish. Besides, he was already dead. 

So why did she feel so uneasy about the simple phrase? 

Shaking her head, she made the decision to push the topic out of her mind and enjoy the rest of the afternoon.

It could wait.

She literally had forever to say it back.

* * *

Sitting up in a cold sweat after dreaming about an endless field of wilting flowers, Lenore felt her thoughts finally click together. 

Forever.

Never-ending.

Eternity. 

It was a long-ass time.

All of her past relationships had ended in a week, no matter how passionate the affairs had been. 

And that was what scared her. 

For two ghosts, falling in love meant eternity. And eternity was terrifying. 

She couldn’t imagine ever wanting to end things with HG. When they were together, it felt effortless, comfortable, and so very right.

But what if...what if he got bored of her? All the other men did. What if one day, it could be next week, it could be in a thousand years, HG decided they were just too different and ended things. 

Living forever was lonely enough. Doing so without HG would be enough to wish for the death she had escaped. 

But if they never fell in love, there was nothing to end.

“Lenore?” HG’s sleep-heavy voice asked suddenly, cutting through the warm darkness. “Are-are you alright?”

She felt his hand touch her back gently.

Flinching, she fell back onto the pillow and caught his hand between her own, giving it a quick kiss. “Yeah...yeah, I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

Through the darkness, she saw his eyes crinkle with concern, before nodding thoughtfully and sinking back into the pillow. “Good night, my dear.”

“Goodnight.” 

And silently, like a dress rehearsal of sorts, she added to herself, _ I love you. _

* * *

The next day, she watched HG work. 

This was a frequent diversion of hers. It was very calming, hypnotic almost, seeing someone choose their actions with such precision and purpose. As he threaded wire through holes and twisted and hammered things, his face would harden with concentration and his lips would murmur silent thoughts. 

And Lenore would talk.

She would tell him stories, and gossip, and ideas she had for new gowns. As she spoke, he would nod and chuckle and give quiet acknowledgement that he was still listening. 

But this day, her words did not flow as freely. With each sentence she spoke, she felt at risk of revealing her recent worries. He had that effect on her: those gentle eyes that tempted her to share her soul, that soft smile which put her at ease, that kind voice which murmured reassurances. Everything about him was her weakness.

“What did you dream about last night?” HG asked after a long while of silence. 

“Me?” Looking up from the skirt she was sewing, the ghost felt her phantom heartbeat rising.

He nodded softly. “Yes, you seemed rather distressed.”

“Oh, it was nothing. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Are you not feeling well?”

“I don’t even think ghosts can get sick.” She replied, tone deceptively light.

“Alright...good.” He nodded thoughtfully, turning to face his work once more.

Then, he added, “You can tell me anything. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah...yeah, I do.” A tightness overtook her chest as she spoke. 

“Good.” He smiled.

A beat passed.

Then, setting aside his tools, he looked up at her once more. “Speaking of which, there is something...that I have been meaning to say.”

“Oh?” Lenore felt her pulse race.

She knew what was coming.

“Yes, I, uh...well, I tried to say it, but I’m not sure...I don’t know if-”

“Please…” Lenore interrupted, “I...don’t want you to say something you might regret.”

Confusion growing in his eyes, HG cocked his head. “I-I won’t regret what I’m about to say?”

“Are you sure? Think about it.”

“I have thought about it...are you sure you’re alright, Lenore?”

“I just don’t want you to get tired of me!” She confessed, voice wavering.

“Get tired of you? Lenore, what are you-”

“I love you!”

They both froze.

And time stood still.

Lenore felt the weight which had been a resident in her chest lift. 

She’d said it.

She’d meant it.

And he’d heard it.

Looking up from the ground, Lenore held her breath.

Then, a beaming smile spread across HG’s face.

“You-you love me?”

“Yeah…” she nodded, still bracing herself for the impending doom which felt less and less troubling by the minute, “Lame, right?”

“No,” shaking his head, he crossed the room in two steps and grabbed her hands. “Not lame. Not a bit.”

“I mean, it’s a little lame. I have this Cold Lady Ghost image to uphold, and you are making it really tough.”

His grin grew as he chuckled. “I’m terribly sorry.”

A shaky smile made its way onto her lips. “So...you love me too?”

“Oh…” Eyes growing wide, he stuttered, “Yes! I-I-”

He struggled for a moment, before determination filled his gaze. Then, the inventor pulled her close and kissed her soundly. 

Throwing her arms around his neck, Lenore felt the doubt she had agonized over melting into bittersweet nothingness. As his hands ran up her back, pulling her closer still, his lips moved gently against hers. 

“I do love you...more than anything,” he breathed against her mouth.

“And you won’t get bored of me?” She laughed tearfully, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes.

Gaze shimmering with intoxicating sincerity, he replied. “How could I tire of someone I’ve waited for my entire life?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, peoples! Reviews are SUPER appreciated <3  
> Have a fabulous day!


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